


Say it Louder

by Norsenightingale



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Bad BDSM Etiquette, Dirty Talk, F/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Naked Female Clothed Male, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 07:07:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13921944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Norsenightingale/pseuds/Norsenightingale
Summary: For some people, pet names can be considered somewhat of a turn-on. For Ivar, the title of ‘king’ makes him nearly insatiable. - or - Ivar has his way with a slave girl.





	Say it Louder

Golden rays of morning sun had just begun peaking over the mountains, enveloping all it touched in warmth. Roosters and small children were already busy greeting the new day but the occupants of the long house in the village center didn’t seem phased in the slightest. The music was still loud, drinks still flowing, and people still too busy celebrating to notice the night was over.

Ivar kept his gaze cast toward the woman on his right. She was becoming drowsy, her eyes less focused than usual, but she wouldn’t close them. Nothing could make her miss a moment of this.

It wasn’t often that Ivar allowed thralls to attend ceremonies reserved for those of higher rank, but this was an exception. This was his celebration after all, and if he wanted a certain pretty serving girl by his side, he would have just that.

“It seems the village is waking. Are you getting tired of the festivities?”

(y/n) hadn’t noticed the man shift closer toward her but could feel the heat that seemed to radiate from his skin. His breath tickled her shoulder when he spoke and caused a shiver to run the length of her spine.

“I could never grow tired of celebrating such a victory, my king, but if you are, then who I am to say otherwise?”

His lips tilted in a satisfied smirk. That was his favorite kind of answer and his new favorite title.

“Mmm,” he hummed, “I think I like the word ‘king’ coming from your mouth much more than I thought I would.”

Ivar was becoming bolder now, his large palm settling on her knee. Even through the rather heavy material of her dress, he could feel her muscles tense at the unexpected touch. His fingers experimentally squeezed at softness of her thigh and he chuckled at her discomfort.

“I would like to hear you call me by that title again. Perhaps while you are warming my bed.”

(y/n)’s cheeks flushed at his suggestion and she attempted to hide her expression behind a goblet of wine. The sweet liquid usually helped to calm her nerves but not while such a powerful man was staring at her like a hunter watches its prey.

“Ah-ah, let me see you.”

Any barrier she once had was soon stolen from her as Ivar pulled away the cup and set it down next to his own. His hand cradled her chin and forced her head up until she locked eyes with his icy blue ones.

“There you are,” his calloused thumb ran across her lower lip, “good girl.”

He could see uncertainty settle across her face but paid little mind to it. (y/n) had never served him in a sexual way before but he knew that she had spent plenty of nights with Hvitserk. This meant, then, that her fear must have been influenced by the fact it was him. It was Ivar that made her tremble. The thought aroused him more than he anticipated and he found himself enjoying the way she squirmed in his grasp.

“Are you afraid of your king?”

She immediately shook her head ‘no’ at the question but didn’t trust her voice to answer him properly. Ivar grinned at her, his tongue running over the points of his canine teeth.

“I think you’re lying.”

He paused for a moment and suddenly retracted both of his hands away from her body. She watched him slouch back into his chair and empty the rest of his cup into his mouth.

“You know the way to my bed. I expect to find you there when I leave here.”

Her mouth gaped at his orders and the way he delivered them without so much as another glance in her direction. She tried to compose herself quickly and exited the hall but not before stealing a final glance at him as she went.

*****

Time seemed to pass slowly as (y/n) paced around Ivar’s sleeping chambers. She noted the way the entire area seemed to be a contradiction to the man who lived there. Outside, Ivar was cold and calculated but everything around her now screamed soft and warm.

The bed was large and took up the majority of the area. Bright throws and pillows of red, orange, and yellow decorated it and she wondered where he found dyes of such colors. Surely they would have to be souvenirs of his travels. She pressed on the edge of the platform and felt it sink under her palm with the plushness of it.

Everywhere she looked books and papers were scattered about, many in languages she didn’t even recognize. Some of them seemed like normal writing, tiny script in straight lines, but other’s contained drawings of mythical creatures, castles, and even what looked like building plans for an entire city.

One of the books was laid out on the pillows, face down to keep it open on a particular place. (y/n) picked it up carefully and scanned the fancy scroll work that decorated the pages.

Atque animos placida contudit arte feros.  
Qui totiens socios, totiens exterruit hostes  
Creditur annosum pertimuisse senem.

The words made no sense to her but they sounded pretty in her head when she tried to pronounce them.

“Latin.”

(y/n) froze where she stood, the low voice from behind startling her. At some point, Ivar must have managed to enter the room without making a sound a single sound. She didn’t know how long he had been there watching her because her back had been foolishly turned toward the entrance.

“Pardon?” She swallowed thickly but didn’t turn around.

His footsteps could be heard now, a sort of drag followed by the ‘clink’ of his crutches. One large palm wound around her hand that was holding the leather bound pages and squeezed gently.

“The book you are holding. It’s written in Latin.”

He pressed his chest against her back, the rough armor causing goosebumps to rise on her skin. Ivar was at least a head taller than her and from this position, his hard cock was nestled tightly against the curve of her backside. The book fell to the stone floor but neither one moved to retrieve it. They were both occupied with other things as he rutted against her, intentionally or not. When his lips began working across her neck, she knew it was certainly intentional.

“My king…” she whimpered as his teeth grazed her collarbone. He pressed in closer, seeking just a little more friction.

“Can you feel what that does to me? What you do to me?” Ivar sucked on the bruised skin. “So hard it hurts.”

His hands found her hips and spun her gently, lips now working on every bit of skin he had access to in her dress. He nearly growled when he felt her push him away but changed his mind when she began unbuttoning the garment. The red fabric pooled at her ankles and she cast her eyes downward. (y/n) didn’t know if it was a sign of respect or embarrassment or both that made her do it, but Ivar didn’t seem to care.

“Gorgeous,” his cupped her cheeks, “absolutely gorgeous.”

He coaxed her up to face him and met her lips when she did. His tongue swiped against her bottom lip and she parted them to taste him. A first kiss with someone new was always exciting but she had never wanted someone as much as she did right now. Ivar tasted of wine and mint and suddenly she couldn’t get close enough.

She pressed him back toward the bed and fell with him against it. His lips trailed her chest until he found a nipple and teased it with his teeth.

“Wait,” she weakly protested, “allow me to undress you.”

Ivar grinned and rolled them over onto her back. He settled between her legs, his hips forcing them apart almost painfully wide.

“Oh no, I’ll have you just like this.”

She let out a wanton moan when his fingers began unexpectedly playing with her, parting her lips and immediately finding her clit. His rough thumb worked quick circles against the nub while his index finger probed her entrance.

“Look at how wet you are,” he teased, “you like that thought, don’t you? Want me to take you while I’m wearing my armor, huh? Take you just like a whore.”

She bucked against his hand when he thrust two fingers inside of her and curled them sinfully.

“King Ivar,” she yelped, “please take me.”

He pressed his lips back to her mouth while he deftly worked the flap of his trousers open. Her hot little fingers wrapped around him immediately and he gasped while she worked his neglected flesh. He slapped her away after a few seconds and angled against her warmth.

“I don’t need your hand,” he whispered into her ear, “I need your cunt.”

In one swift motion he filled her to the hilt, every inch of him throbbing inside of her. He gave her nearly no time to adjust to his generous size before he was retreating and thrusting back into her with force that knocked the air out of her lungs. Had he not have been so overwhelmed with pleasure, he would have been ashamed of how quickly he was about to come. Her tight walls squeezing him simply felt too wonderful to resist.

“Say it,” he grunted, “say what you know I want to hear.”

Her fingernails clawed against him, winding into the fabric covering his back as she struggled to form words.

“I’m yours, my king,” she gasped, “I belong to you.”

His hips snapped quickly, grazing deeper inside than any other man had ever been.

“Louder. Say it louder.”

“I belong to you, only you, King Ivar!”

His cock twitched inside of her as he filled her with his hot seed and sent her tumbling into her own orgasm. She whimpered from the stimulation, her body already beginning to feel achy and spent. When he had nothing more to give he pulled himself from her warmth and gathered her smaller frame in his arms. His armor still felt cold and rough against her but she couldn’t bring herself to complain.

Their breathing soon settled back into a normal pattern but Ivar didn’t pull away from her like she expected him to. Instead, his fingers busied themselves with caressing the skin of her lower stomach and his lips worked on forming yet another mark on her neck.

“You will spend nights here from now on. I don’t want you serving anyone but me, understood?”

A small smile graced her lips and she snuggled further into Ivar’s embrace.

“Whatever you wish, my king.”


End file.
